"No fear of that," said mamma; and she had scarcely spoken when Aunt Annie's smiling face appeared at the door.
"Well, little polar-bear, where did you come from?" she asked, taking hold of the bundle of furs and wrappings which called itself Maggie.
"Out of the icebergs to eat you up," growled Maggie, pretending to be the bear Aunt Annie had called her.
"Very well, sir, I suppose you have a good appetite since you have come so far; but, of course, if I am eaten up, you cannot expect my mother to go sleigh-riding with the fellow that has made a meal upon her child."
When Maggie heard this, she declared that she was no longer a polar-bear, but just Aunt Annie's own little niece, who would not eat her up even if she were starving, and whom it was quite safe to take sleigh-riding. Both she and Bessie were wild with delight. They could scarcely eat their dinner, and the moment it was over, ran away to the nursery to be dressed for the ride.
When the sleigh came to the door, Aunt Annie said she had two polar-bears to ride with her, and pretended to be quite alarmed. But both the bears proved to be very well-behaved, and neither bit nor scratched; although they did now and then hug a little as they sat, the one between mamma and grandmamma, and the other between Aunt Annie and Aunt Helen; for Aunt Helen had come from Riverside to make her mother a visit and to stay till after Christmas.
"We are to have a Christmas tree, Aunt Helen," said Maggie.
"And all our people are to come," said Bessie.